Contort

New contours are emerging
And this face just seems to creep
Out from under
Ever burdening blankets
One would think I’ve been asleep.

Where pain was found disturbing
It’s now disturbing that there’s pain
Like old rats still numerous in occupation
Of bins once full of grain

Was this all in vain?


On land and I reside
I find that residue
Upon these smashed mirrors
I always seem to cut myself
When I fight with you